The Boy King
by GhostWriter1994
Summary: "No matter if you are Pan the ugly or Malcolm the shepherd, one truth will remain forever. I will always love you, with all my heart." The origins story of Neverland.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

"Forgive Me"

410 AD, Roman Territory

Malcolm looked over the pastures, the sheep grazing peacefully under the orange red, setting sun light. It was quiet that day and he liked it like that. The cities in Rome can be so loud and busy. The noise never stops. Plus the people there pity him. A poor shepherd boy, with nothing but the clothes on his back to keep him warm, the crumbs to keep him full and no roof to keep him from the rain and wind, but in all honesty, he pictures his life as paradise. His home is the vast lengths of grass and trees. He has a river and a pond. He has countless fields of berries and animals for food, and endless piles of wool. It may be a bit difficult to obtain these blessings, but worth the work.

In his hands he's carving a figure of a woman, focusing carefully on the detail. Across the way, three girls are laughing and pointing, making it perfectly obvious who they are snickering about. Malcolm could feel their burning gaze. He looks up and gives them a warning glance. He's not sure what he looked like, but apparently it was enough to scare them off. "_Whores_," he snarled bitterly, going back to the carving. He didn't hear them, but he knows what they're saying.

_There's Pan! _

_Hideous, hideous Pan!_

It's what they all say. Malcolm was always seen as the ugly boy. The one who was so hideous, it was rumored you'll have eternal bad luck if you looked at him in the eye. It was why they ran. Rumors like that spread like wild fire in Rome and soon enough everyone will know the pitiful ugly shepard. Luckily there are those who aren't so cruel.

"Malcolm," a girl called, approaching him wearing her usual finest silks and ribbons. Before he could greet her with a smile, she hurries to put her flawless hand over his dirt, smudged eyes. Breathing in Malcolm could smell roses and grapes. It's a very sweet smell. Malcolm smiled. "I've come with a gift," she whispers in his ear.

Malcolm stiffens at the word and not just because he could feel her breath on his neck. Gently he takes her hand off his face, so he could get a good look at her. Her strawberry gold hair falls down her shoulder in waves, like a waterfall. Her blue eyes piercing his green ones, unafraid and risking eternal bad luck. She smiles at him as he brings a soil coated hand to her lips. They are perfectly dark pink and plump. No sooner, he rips his gaze away to look back into her eyes, his smile now gone again.

He moves to open his mouth but she stops him instantly, "The price was small, this I swear."

Malcolm allowed himself to smile at that, as he took the neatly wrapped cloth from her hand. Opening it, and finding golden colored pipes.

"You broke your old ones, did you not?"

"I did," said he, bringing them to his lips and playing a single tune. His smile widens again, "Thank you, Gwendolyn."

Sitting beside him she welcomes herself, leaning against his chest, and resting her head on his shoulder. "Play me a song," she said, comforted by the movement of his breathing, pushing her up and down, up and then down again. Obediently, he brought the gold colored pipes to his lips. The familiar taste of wood widens his smile as he played her a soft tune, moving slowly and smoothly in the air.

Gwendolyn closed her eyes, taking in all that there was at that moment. Malcolm played her three songs for each mood. The first was a tune of sweetness. This song was meant to be her's. He played all that he saw in her, her beauty, her intelligence, her patience, her passion, and finally, her courage. It was the only form of thanks he could give her. He would give her a gift too, but the only thing he could possibly afford was that wooden figure he planned to present her for her birthday. It was a pathetic sort of gift, and it was this which could always twist his face in shame, but he reluctantly accepted it, because it was all he had.

Yes, it's still true Malcolm isn't ashamed of who he is or how he lives, but… he loves Gwendolyn. He loves her more than he loves his grass, trees, ponds, or rivers. He would give it all up, work in the city, if it meant taking care of her. He would do _anything_ for her, give up _anything_ for her, or even be _anything _for her. Now that doesn't mean he'll become anything she wants him to be, and let her push him around like a mule but change, if she really needed it.

Little did he know, Gwendolyn feels the same.

The second song, was a song they could dance to and they did. As Malcolm played this next tune of quick movement and short beats, Gwendolyn stood on her feet and twirled around, her hair swaying like a fan and her dress twirling and her ribbons tangling. She motioned a hand, gesturing Malcolm to dance with her and he did. As he played, he bounced next to her, laughing in delight with Gwendolyn until finally they both fell to the ground breathless.

They paused, catching their breath, when Gwendolyn climbed back on his chest. Malcolm wrapped an arm possessively around her shoulder. "Gwendolyn?" Malcolm whispered.

"Hmm?"

He swallowed, "Are you cursed with ill fortune?"

She lifted himself from him, to get a better look at his face, cocking an eyebrow at his ridiculous question, "Why?" As she sat up, Malcolm let his hand move down her arm, until she finally stopped and his fingers brushed gently against her elbow.

"I know you heard the rumors, have you not," Malcolm clarified.

Moving a stand of hair from her face she asks,"Pan?" Malcolm twitched at the name. He loathed it. It was a name of mockery and it was even more bitter hearing it come from her lips. He nodded his head silently, feeling a heat of rage build up in his stomach. "I think it suits you."

His heart broke that second. With one strong arm he pushed her away from him, "How could you say that!?" He climbed back to his feet and moved away from her, looking back to the sheep. Gwendolyn was pushed hard enough to feel a sharp pain on her back the moment she fell backwards, but not hard enough for it to bruise. It was nothing to worry about. The real problem was set in front of her, and he had his back turned.

"I did not mean to…" Carefully she walked toward her, placing a hand on his shoulder, but he shooed it away, "Please forgive me. I'm foolish with my words. I did not mean them as you heard." She placed her hand back on his shoulder and this time he didn't brush it off. "Please understand. In Greece they believed Pan is the god of the wild, shepherds and flocks, nature of mountain wilds, hunting and music, and though I understand you are no god, are you not a shepherd? Do you not enjoy nature, and are you not talented with music-?"

"He is also very ugly," he said, cutting her off.

Gwendolyn did not know what to say. She's confused, "What?"

Malcolm turned back to face her, "I've heard other rumors. Rumors of a proposal." Gwendolyn shifted awkwardly, already aware of what he is talking about, "A proposal to you."

"It is nothing you need to worry about," Gwendolyn quickly explained, "My father simply has planned of this arrangement since I was a young girl."

"When were you going to tell me?"

"You are avoiding the previous subject," Gwendolyn snapped, "You said Pan is very ugly. Why do you think you are ugly?"

"Am I not!?" he exclaims, throwing up his arms in frustration. "It must be true! For that's what they all say. _So hideous is he, he will curse you with a glance! So hideous is he, Medusa would not dare to look upon him of fear _he _would turn _her _into stone_!"

She paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "What I think, matters not."

Inching closer to her, his breath lingering from her lips, he whispers, "What you think, matters most."

"No you are not," she finally answers gently. He almost doesn't believe her because of how long it took her to answer and then she answers more jokingly, "Filthy yes, but not ugly."

Malcolm search for some truth in her eyes and found it. She was telling the truth and knowing this made his heart swell with reassurance and… a bit of guilt. "Forgive me," his voice sweeter now, "The rumors and village girls have been dancing on my nerves."

"Well, no matter if you are Pan the ugly or Malcolm the shepherd, one truth will remain forever. I will always love you, will all my heart."

Malcolm kissed her almost immediately, holding her against him as if someone were trying to rip her away from him. She smiled and laughed into the kiss, melting into him, until they were perfectly one. Later Malcolm played his third tune. It was quick some times and slow other times. It was a song of forgiveness.

…

1651 AD, Neverland

Pan sat on the branch of a very old, tall tree. He pressed his lips against the wood of his pipes, playing the same tune of forgiveness over a peculiarly placed cage. As he played he watched a flawless hand sway from outside of the bars, keeping up with the beat. He watched as her hand moved along with the music, until finally it stopped, because Pan stopped playing.

"Wendy?" He jumped from the tree and carefully inched toward the cage, "Wendy?"

Risking the chance of broken fingers, he wrapped them around the bars and peered inside, "Wen-"

Pan jumped backwards just in time. A rock flew and hit the bars, vibrating them, causing them to hum loudly. She was sitting in the middle of the cage, legs folded together and hands in her lap. Her eyes met his, angry, and unforgiving, she turned away from him in spite. "I do not want to see you, _Pan_!" she spits.

Whatever was left in his heart, broke. The sound of that name roll, hatefully off her lips, the piercing glare of true betrayal, it was enough to almost lose hope that she will one day see. What he does, he does for her. His head hung lifelessly from his shoulders, his eyes locked on gold colored wood. He realized in his haste, he dropped his pipes. Picking them up, he dusted off the dirt. A crack was left on one of the tubes. "I'm sorry Gwendolyn," he whispers, eyes stuck on the crack, "I truly am."

READER'S NOTE

Okay guys. This is my first story in this account. What do you think? If you don't get it, that's okay. I know there will be allot of questions. Feel free to ask them! I welcome them. In all honesty, I wasn't planning to start with them but they are like the root of the whole series so, I guess it's best. Anyway! Comments, concerns or complaints, please…

REVIEW!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One

"What I do, I do for Love"

412 AD, Roman Territory

Malcolm dropped his bare body weight on top of Gwendolyn, the sweat rolling from his face and onto the makeshift cushion under her. Gwendolyn was equally as tired, her clothes ripped away and her hair untangled from it's braid and left sprawled like a fan on the cushion below her. Though it was a bit chilly that night, heat radiated from them. Malcolm kissed her forehead, leading a trail down her face and her neck and continued to go down. She sighed in pure contentment.

A few hours later she was dressed again, and helped Malcolm tie up the laces of his shirt, unarguably her favorite part of the night. In the chilly air, the sky was filled with the light of the stars. So many, the grounds don't seem as dark. "I must be off," said Gwendolyn who had just finished tying his shirt. Malcolm placed a hand gently over hers, to keep her from running off.

"Tomorrow I am to speak with a man about work."

This caught her attention, "You have work. You are a shepherd."

"If we are to be married, I must find work so I can care for you."

Gwendolyn pushed some of his hair away from his eyebrows, smiling sweetly upon him, "You wish to be married to me? This is the first I've heard of it."

Malcolm smiles back at her more sheepishly and embarrassed, "I do, only if you wish it, too."

Gwendolyn paused as if to think upon it but almost immediately after, she could not keep up with the charade. "Ofcourse!" she jumped on him and kissed him deep. Malcolm caught her and kissed her just as deep back, letting her hands move from his face and move down his back. "You will find work," she paused to kiss him again, "I will run away with you so they can not stop us…" she paused to kiss him more, "and I will be your wife." She kisses him again, this time with no plan to pull away. Malcolm's hands moved around the small of her waist and down her curves. Every now and then he would tangle his fingers into the ends of her wavy hair as she pushed herself closer to him.

Reluctantly, Malcolm pulled away. "Okay, Okay… You must be off," he whispered, knowing very well, if she did not leave now, he wouldn't have the strength to let her leave later and her father would surely wake up and notice his daughter missing, causing all sorts of unwanted attention. Gwendolyn smiled at this as he allowed one more quick kiss before he walked her home.

…

1651 AD, Neverland

It was morning when Pan went on his regular morning visit to see Wendy. Ever since he put her in that cage, she acted as if she hated him, which he knows is not true based off the promise she still wears around her neck. To the untrained eye, you'd see an acorn but to Pan, it is much more than that. It is the promise that she is forever his and though she is bitter with him now, she will someday see it his way, this he swears, but it doesn't change the fact… he misses the sound of her voice, her laugh, that sigh of contentment when he was just around her. So when he arrived at her side, he was prepared to give the world.

It was still dark out, so, if you didn't know her, it wouldn't be a surprise to see her sleeping form in the middle of the cage, but Pan knew better. She wasn't asleep. She was merely pretending, so he would leave, but not this time. Pan kneeled at her side.

"Please leave me alone," she requests more gently than usual. He hasn't heard this tone in a long time and he almost fell off his heels hearing it. "I'm tired today. Too tired for your visits."

He paused playing with the pipes in his hands. Letting them slide across his palm as he turned them over, inspecting the crack on one of the wooden tubes. "How about we go for a walk?" he offered.

Wendy turned, her tired and defeated gaze landing on his. Slowly her expression softened and Pan saw that enough for a 'yes'. With a flick of his wrist, the cage door fell over. Pan took Wendy's hand and gently pulled her out, revealing the bulge on her stomach. To the young boys, it's barely noticeable and could be easily explained. Pan simply told them she was fat, is all. Little did they know, Wendy's bump had nothing to do with her weight. Slowly she hobbled out, a gentle hand resting on the bump.

They walked through the forest of Neverland. Every now and then, he would glance back at her and the bulge. "Your lost boys will wake up soon," Wendy warned, after fifteen minutes of just walking.

"No they won't," he reassured her. Pan grabbed her hand, to stop her. Gently pulling her down with him, as he carefully bend down to the ground to sit. Wendy struggled in defiance. "Wendy please. You need to rest."

"I don't have to do anything!" Wendy quickly growled back. "I had enough rest in that cage, thank you very much. It's not like he grows anymore than we do."

"He?" Pan laughed, "Are you so sure it's a boy?"

"Yes."

"How are you sure?"

"Because I'm his mother."

"Okay," Pan laughed again, throwing his arms up in defeat.

Wendy allowed a smile, a small one, barely detectable, as she finally gave up and sat down. Admittedly she was very tired, now more physically than she was mentally. Pan tried to pull her to him, have her lay on him, like she did years ago, but she would not. She folded her knees below her, sitting up straight next to Pan, who was comfortably leaning on his elbows. "Wendy? Do you still love me?" he asked her.

She did not dare look at him, as she huffed. "I do," she whispered, twiddling with her thumbs. Pan smiled at this. He was always so certain she did, but reassurance was nice too. Wendy turned to look at him, and she did something he wasn't expecting. She looked at him with anger and betrayal. The usual looks he gets from her when he's with his lost boys. "But I don't like you anymore," her voice is still quiet as she continued, "You… are not the man I married. Not the man I fell in love with."

Pan didn't let the sudden stab of pain, he felt, show. He jokingly replied, "Perhaps you should have married Felix instead."

She didn't reply, she simply dropped her eyes to the ground.

Pan's smile fell, the twinge of jealousy and worry filled his chest, his eyes which were locked on the promise tied around her neck, dulled in wonder and anger.

…

415 AD, Roman Territory

Gwendolyn was out picking berries. She piled the basket her mother woven just for her.

She was in an orchard, a private one she found stumbling through the woods, one day. This was her favorite place in her village. It was always blessed with the sweet tastes of berries and fruits. Sunlight seemed to glow through the leaves and shine rainbows on the grounds. Not many knew of this place, and that's what she loved most about it.

On her way home she made a mental note to bring some berries to Malcolm, but the thought was quickly interrupted by the sound of pounding feet, and an unfamiliar face walking through her door. Shocked, Gwendolyn dropped a clay bowl, helplessly hearing the sound of the crash on the floor, eyes still locked on his.

"Forgive me!" said a boy, from which she's never met, "I'm sorry I've startled you."

"Worry not," Gwendolyn whispered with caution, "I am hopelessly clumsy. The fault is all mine."

She continued to stare at him in silence, the broken pieces of clay left below her. It was the sound of her father's voice which broke the trance, "What happened here child," cried her father in more amusement than worry. No one says anything as her father kicks over a few pieces and he smiles at his daughter, "Well I'm glad to see to the two of you have met."

"I'm afraid we _haven't_ been acquainted," Gwendolyn corrected.

"Well then," said her father, clearing his throat, "Gwendolyn, meet Felix, son of a roman soldier and heir of a small fortune." Turning toward Felix, he continued, "Felix, my daughter Gwendolyn, a fine lady both in beauty and strength."

"I have no doubt about that," said Felix with a smile.

Gwendolyn curtsied in respect as Felix bowed, eyes now locked on hers. Uncomfortable she turned her eyes away from his gaze, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Felix."

"The pleasures all mine."

"He is a very respectable young man," continued her father, giving her a very serious stare, "A perfect match for a _very_ respectable young lady."

"I'm sure he is," said Gwendolyn. "Any lady would be foolish to not already fallen for you."

Felix smiled wider.

"I'm glad you feel that way, sweetheart," said her father, satisfied. "Because I've chosen him to be your husband."

Her heart stopped, and her blood ran cold. The first she thought of was Malcolm, who was currently waiting for her. What was she going to tell him. She had thought… "Father what about James? The boy of the sea?"

"I have eyes, child," he answered, "And I know when my daughter isn't satisfied with someone."

It was true. James was a bit of a… boring and safe young man. She loved adventure and free will, it is the reason she fell in love with Malcolm. Though it is not James's fault. Surely he would find someone else, one day, who isn't her.

"Now don't be rude," her father scolded lightly, "Show him around."

Gwendolyn did as she was told, leading him out of the kitchen and out the door. First she showed him the arenas, the most popular, sociable places on the Roman territory. It's tiny, and not nearly as grand as Rome's arena, but popular enough. Then she showed him the beaches, and introduced him to most of the fishermen, she befriended, and lastly she showed him the fields. She made sure to make this visit short and quick. Praying that they would not run into…

"Gwendolyn!" Biting her lip, she turned around and found a very happy shepherd, jogging his way toward him, "I thought you'd never come."

"Malcolm," she said in a warning tone, "Meet my _betroved_, Felix."

Malcolm's eyes slowly moved from her's to the young man standing next to her. Eyeing Felix's arm, which was bravely wrapped around her waist. "Pleasure to meet you," said Felix, offering a hand to shake.

Malcolm didn't move, "Pleasure... to meet _you_… ughh... sir." Words seemed to feel foreign to him for a moment as he also seemed to lose the ability to breathe. Gwendolyn watched him carefully. They were aware something like this would happen, but it was quite clear he wasn't prepared for it.

…

1651 AD, Neverland

Pan was fuming mad, and aggressively jealous. He could barely breathe. He had meant, Wendy marrying Felix instead of he, as a joke and nothing more, but the more he thinks about it. The more he realizes it may be true. Wendy didn't even answer him when he said it. He was hoping she would deny the idea, but she remained quiet. Had she thought about it? Did she fall for him while Pan was away?

IF HE EVER TOUCHED HER-!

The lost boys were awake and so was Felix. As Pan made his way back into camp, Felix was looking over the boys like a shepherd to his flock, like Pan does when there's work to be done. First Wendy and now his status!? Is nothing sacred!? Pan made it perfectly clear he was upset with Felix, colliding his shoulder with Felix's as he moved passed him.

"Sword!" He mumbled under his breath.

Felix, hesitantly, did what he was told. He picked up a spare sword from the ground, the camp was littered with them, and watched as Pan pulled out his sword from it's sheath. This was a battle and Felix was in no mood to fight. He knew what it was about. It was obvious. Realizing how stupid this was, Felix tossed his sword to the ground, "Gwendolyn wouldn't want us to fight."

"Pick up your sword!" Pan bellowed, but Felix still refused. It was an act that was both very brave but also very stupid. No one told Pan no! Especially not one of his sheep! "Then you have chosen your own demise!"

The lost boys looked at their leader in question as he moved forward and swung his sword. Skillfully, Filex moved. Dodging Pan's swing just in time. Only a hair was sliced and slowly fall to the ground. Pan yelled and jumped at him again, his sword pointed straight at Felix's heart, but again Felix dodged it. It angered Pan even more that he couldn't catch him. This pattern continued. Pan would attack and Felix would dodge, staring at the young man pitifully. Until finally…

"UUGGHH!" Felix yelled as he fell to the ground, holding his face. Red dripped from his chin as Felix groaned in pain. Looking at what he had done Pan smiled in victory. He knew Felix would not die but it satisfied him, he now shared pain with him.

Pan moved toward Felix, kneeling down to his level, he whispered in his ear, "You stay away from her."

READER'S NOTE:

Sorry that took forever! Well here it is and I know. Kind of messed up. Also if you're wondering Henry and Grace will be in the next chapter. I know it took forever for them to join the story but I had trouble writing their part. Anyway! Love it, Hate it, don't understand it. Please…

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